


if this love was a wound would you heal it?

by swearwollf



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 13:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15819996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swearwollf/pseuds/swearwollf
Summary: Gavin breaks his wrist and needs help shaving.  He and Ark have a heart-to-heart.





	if this love was a wound would you heal it?

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to SheWolf_Running for the beta and also all the hand-holding. This is the first fic I've ever properly written and it came with its own existential crisis. All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> In this particular world, RK900 goes by Ark.
> 
> Title is from Polymorphing by Chairlift

“Fucking, _god dammit_.”

 

It’s 0700 on Monday morning, and Gavin is cursing viciously at himself in the bathroom mirror.  Ark is no stranger to hearing this kind of language from Gavin, especially before his coffee, but something in his tone begs interference. Without thought, Ark finds himself rising from his seat at the tiny kitchen table to join Gavin in the bathroom.

 

For a moment, he stands in the doorway and assesses the scene before him.  Gavin, shaving cream unevenly applied across his face and neck, is glaring at his own reflection as he clumsily raises a razor to his cheek.  His right wrist is in a cast due to a fall the week prior, and the limited range of motion it provides is thwarting Gavin’s attempt to shave his weekend accumulation of stubble.  Ark can’t help but note the water dripping from his damp hair and down the naked line of his back, wetting the top edge of his boxer shorts. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before Gavin catches sight of him in the mirror and scowls.

 

“I’m fine, Ark.”  Gavin’s frustration levels are at 68% and rising, spiking as his clumsy fingers drop the razor into the sink.  A muscle jumps in Gavin’s jaw beneath the shaving cream as he clenches his teeth, taking a steadying breath. Despite Gavin’s words, Ark sees his opportunity and intercepts with precision.

 

He steps into the room and with gentle firmness turns Gavin to face him.  Gavin’s aggrieved _don’t_ turns into an indignant grunt as Ark lifts him by the waist onto the bathroom counter beside the sink.  Any attempts at escape are foiled as Ark smoothly insinuates himself between Gavin’s knees, trapping him between his body and the mirror.  Grasping for stability, Gavin grabs Ark’s shoulder with his uninjured left hand and gives him the surliest stare he can muster. With a face still covered in shaving cream, he only manages to be... cute.

 

“Let me help.”  Ark summons his best encouraging smile, only a slight uptick of his lips and softening at the edges of his eyes.  Gavin’s anger deflates by approximately 5%. In a further ploy for distraction, Ark leans back slightly so Gavin can see clearly as he methodically rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt to reveal his forearms.  Gavin likes his forearms. Ark keeps his eyes on his task so Gavin can look his fill.

 

Once Gavin’s breathing has returned to a more acceptable rate and Ark’s sleeves are appropriately secured, Ark returns his gaze to Gavin’s face.  There is a small divot between the man’s eyebrows, indicating that, though he is agreeable for now, he could change his mind at any moment. Gavin does not particularly like to accept help.  Ark will have to act fast.

 

Leaning back into Gavin’s space, Ark reaches into the still-running sink for the razor.  He sets his free hand on the juncture between the human’s neck and shoulder, then slowly drags his thumb down until it rests in the indentation between Gavin’s clavicles.  Gavin exhales slowly and his eyelids droop, tension decreasing 12%.

 

With utmost care and precision, Ark raises the razor to the man’s cheek and cuts a smooth line through the shaving cream there, before lowering the razor and rinsing it under the tap to his right.  Gavin watches his face through half open eyes, so Ark keeps his eyes on his work and lets him look unobserved. Shave, rinse, repeat. The rhythm is soothing.

 

“I know it doesn’t feel like it, Gavin, but you did well.”  Ark caresses the base of his human’s throat with his thumb just to see him shudder a little, and can’t help but smile when he is rewarded for the effort.  “Our suspect was caught because of you. It was only bad luck you were between him and the stairs and even with a broken wrist you didn’t let him get away.  I’m proud of you.”

 

Something about being cared for and praised is still difficult for Gavin.  He struggles with himself for a moment, jaw clenched and eyes hard as he studies Ark for any sign of insincerity.  Ark knows that he’s hard to read for most humans, but he likes to think that he’s spent enough time with this one to be understood.  He meets Gavin’s gaze evenly. He will never allow himself to move when Gavin needs him there to lean on.

 

“You coulda caught him easy if I hadn’t been in his way,” Gavin says between strokes of the razor.  “That junkie never could’ve outrun you. He still would’ve been caught and I wouldn’t be dealing with this stupid fucking thing on my arm.”  

 

He’s becoming irritated again, so Ark strokes his throat with his thumb once more.  Gavin notices that he’s being soothed and sits up straighter, gently moving Ark’s arm away.

 

“Look, I coulda done this myself.  Just because my god damn wrist is in this _fucking thing_ ,” Gavin brandishes his cast at Ark and sucks in an agitated breath before he can continue, “doesn’t mean I’m useless.  I can take care of myself, babe, I didn’t need you to do this.”

 

Ark knows Gavin’s words are coming from a vulnerable place, so he forcibly banishes his initial pang of hurt.  He runs his hand up Gavin’s neck and into his hair where he can grip and turn his human’s head to a more accessible angle.  Gavin stares at him furiously, but doesn’t resist as Ark draws the razor up the soft underside of his jaw.

 

Watching the razor clear shaving cream from Gavin’s jaw, not quite able to look him in the eye, Ark murmurs quietly:  “Maybe I want to take care of you, Gavin. Maybe I like it.”

 

Gavin makes a soft noise, almost pained.   He’s staring intensely at Ark’s face.

 

“You’re always taking care of me, Ark.  It’s not fair to you.”

 

Finishing his work, Ark releases Gavin’s hair and leans back just slightly.  He feels off, as though despite all his superior calibration, he’s somehow missed a step.  His eyes pinch just slightly at the corners with distress. Association with humans, this one in particular, has severely  hindered his inability to emote. _Resting bitch face_ , Gavin had called it when they first met.  At this moment, he feels bare.

 

He sees his LED flash red, once, in his reflection and knows that Gavin has seen it too.

 

“We take care of eachother.  Please…” Ark releases his hold on Gavin’s hair so Gavin can look at him more directly.  “Gavin, you can’t think I get nothing from this relationship. Do you realize- ? Do you realize how much you’ve done for me?

 

“Connor woke me as a deviant.  I never. I had no frame of reference for the world, for being alive.  I was just. Here, suddenly. All I had was the knowledge and protocols already programmed into me.  I didn't even have a concept of _me_ as an _individual_ yet.”

 

Here, Ark has to take a moment to collect himself. All the processing power of an RK900 model, and he is still undone by his emotions. The true downfall of deviancy, he supposes.  And Gavin’s expression is cracked open, vulnerable. The hand still on Ark’s shoulder grips so hard it would hurt, were he human.

 

“Gavin, you gave me my name.  I went by RK900 for months because I couldn’t feel like a person. But I liked working with you. It was the first thing I understood I enjoyed. I let you name me.”

 

“Fucking- listen here,” Gavin’s voice cracks now with emotion, and he shakes Ark a bit by the shoulder. “I don't- I don’t get to do that. I was just being a fucking asshole. I was trying to piss you off, being lazy with your name, just, why did you _let me do that_?”

 

“Because I liked you.”

 

“Like it's _that easy-_ ”

 

Ark finally drops the razor in the sink so he can frame Gavin’s face with both hands, fingertips on the soft skin directly behind his ears, thumbs on the outside corner of his eyes. Gavin’s skin is still slightly slimy from shaving cream residue.

 

“You are an excellent detective. You're kind to children, even though you hate them. You feed stray cats, even though they hate _you_. Yes, you're an asshole, but you're also a good person.”

 

Ark makes his next words inescapable, looking Gavin straight in the eyes as he tell him: “Gavin, I love you.”

 

Gavin's expression sunders further until he begins to cry. It's almost completely silent, the kind of crying that doesn’t want to be heard. “Fucking plastic _asshole_ ,” Gavin gasps wetly before jerking Ark forward by the front of his shirt and into a kiss. It is gentle, soft.  Sweet. Ark melts a little, sliding his hands back into Gavin’s hair and taking all he can get before Gavin needs to breathe again.

 

Once freed, Gavin presses his face into Ark’s shoulder.  Softly, so quiet only his android ears could catch, Gavin replies, “I love you, too.”

 

Ark presses his nose to Gavin’s hair, inhales. Cheap shampoo, a hint of alcohol from the night before, the cigarettes he still sneaks occasionally when he needs something to do with his hands. And Gavin, distinctly human, distinctly _his._

 

Ark smirks. “I know.”

 

Indignant, Gavin rubs his tear-stained face into Ark’s shirt. “ _Don't_ try to fucking quote Star Wars at me, you shithead,” but he's laughing as his says it. “You didn’t even do it right!”

 

“You're going to have to wear my jacket if you want to fit something over that thing on your arm,” he says, changing the subject. Ark really likes the idea of Gavin wearing his clothes, so it’s no great tragedy for him even if it will interfere with his Look.

 

“Shut up and get out of here, I still have shaving cream on my face.”  

 

Gavin makes no move to push him away, but Ark nevertheless lets go and takes a step back. Gavin's eyes are bright and sharp, and he's ruthlessly smothering his smile into a smirk.

 

Ark can’t help himself. He presses a lingering kiss onto the scar that bridges Gavin’s nose. Gavin hums, pleased.

 

Stepping away fully, Ark says warmly, “We’re going to be late.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, _I know_.” Gavin lets himself smile and it does something to his face. Softens it, somehow, fills it with light.

 

“Hey, will you sign my cast?”


End file.
